We Met in the Rain
by fbeauchamphartz
Summary: Kurt waits outside the loft for his friends to arrive, like they all promised they would six months ago, but Kurt is the only one who shows. Someone unexpected drops by, however, to make sure that Kurt is alright - someone that Kurt had written out of his life for good. Kurt H. Adam C.


**A/N:** _**Written for lovejoybliss, based on her prompt: kurt waits outside the loft and no one shows up from lima, and he's sad until he runs into someone awesome like adam, elliott, the apples, or chase madison**_

_**I don't write Adam often, so I apologize if this sucks, but, here you go :) 3**_

_**Warning for spoilers, angst, and not so Klaine/Blaine friendly. Also, I didn't watch the episode that included this scene. This is just my interpretation from gifs and stuff.**_

Kurt rolls back and forth on his heels, fidgeting beneath his black umbrella as rain pours mercilessly down around him. He checks his watch again. Five minutes since the last time he checked it. He's getting worse. When he started waiting, he was only checking his watch in thirty minute intervals.

What a waste of a day.

It's a testament to how long he's been standing at the foot of the loft stairs in the rain that, even underneath the protection of his oversized umbrella, the hem of his pants are sopping wet, soaked almost all the way up to his knees.

_Six months_. They had agreed to meet at that exact spot outside the loft in six months, because regardless of their successes and their failures, their romantic relationships or lack thereof, their friendship – the group of McKinley graduates who held together through thick and thin - was stronger than anything.

Well, here it was six months later and the only one who showed up was Kurt.

Kurt - standing alone at the foot of the stairs, underneath his black umbrella, getting drenched by an unexpected downpour.

Kurt peeks up at the sky and frowns.

It's sunny, but it's raining.

Kurt hates rain like this - that comes out of nowhere and falls on bright, sunny, otherwise perfect days.

Kind of like it did on the day of his mom's funeral.

Kurt looks down at his wet clothes and scoffs.

He is dressed entirely in black - from his shirt and pants, to his overcoat and his shoes - like he's in mourning, only this time, he's mourning something entirely different.

He's mourning the end of his life - his New York dream - as he knew it.

After Rachel left, and he and Blaine broke up, Kurt slogged through his days on autopilot, going to school, interning at Vogue, working at the diner, acting like everything was normal, like this hiccup, this loneliness, was only temporary.

He still had friends. He still had love and support in his life. He wasn't alone.

Standing there, waiting on people who were never going to show, Kurt has finally gotten to a point where he isn't sure what to do.

Does he move forward…or does he go back? To Lima? To his dad?

To Blaine?

He doesn't have a clue. All he does know for certain is that he needs to get out of the rain before he drowns.

He turns with his head bowed, tired of the rain blowing sideways into his face, and runs head first into a man wearing a sage green Henley and beige khaki pants, both already soaked and getting darker from the rain.

"Oh, I'm so sorry," Kurt mutters, taking a step to the side to let him pass, "I…" Kurt looks up, ready to placate whatever New Yorker he just barreled into, but the face in front of him smiles warmly, blue eyes shining through quasi-gloom of this incongruous weather. "Adam?"

"Hey, Kurt," Adam says, his voice – _God_, Kurt has missed that voice – bringing back a slew of old memories, some of which hurt on a whole new level. "Long time, no see, as they say."

Adam represents a period in his life that ended when Blaine proposed. Seeing Adam again reminds him of that day on the Dalton staircase – of all those days that he assigned as snapshots of his future happiness.

Adam's is a friendly face that's difficult for Kurt to see.

"How did you know that I'd be here?" Kurt asks, looking around, grasping at a shred of hope that his other friends are there, too, arriving inexcusably late but there nonetheless.

What's a few hours between old friends?

Kurt's shoulders slump.

No. Only Adam.

"You…uh…posted that you'd be here on your Facebook page," Adam says, dropping his eyes sheepishly but pulling them back up to Kurt's face immediately.

That's something that Kurt always liked about Adam. He isn't afraid to look Kurt in the eyes – ever.

"But…you unfriended me," Kurt says bitterly when he remembers how completely Adam broke ties with him after he found out about Kurt's engagement. "How can you see my wall?"

"You're still apart of the NYADA groups," Adam admits, sounding guilty with each new admission, "and you might want to rethink your privacy settings."

Kurt's eyes widen. _Crap!_ he thinks, shuddering at the thought of who else might be stalking his Facebook wall, looking at pictures of what he made for breakfast and his brand new vintage style mock Tiffany lamp.

"So, why are you here?" Kurt shrugs, wondering how Adam thinks showing up here is going to change anything.

"Because, you've been kind of posting the heavy lately," Adam says, "and I thought you might need one more friend."

_One more friend_. The words settle sourly in his brain, seeing as the only person who managed to show up at all was a person Kurt had written off for good.

"I thought you hated me," Kurt says, staring down at his Docs, the drops of rain beading on the surface of the black leather and rolling over the toe, leaving a trail of droplets behind. "You kicked me out of the Apples."

"I know. I behaved abominably when I found out you had gotten engaged," Adam says with a heavy sigh, "and I apologize. I just…" Adam peeks up at Kurt and sees only his umbrella, which he's shamefully thankful for. It makes it easier to express his feelings without seeing the pain – or possibly the rejection – in his eyes, always so expressive, always a crystal clear window to his every thought and feeling. "I just didn't want to see you get hurt again."

Kurt nods, pinching his lower lip between his teeth, astonished at the thought that Adam already knew. Adam had read Kurt's relationship better than Kurt had, and he hadn't even met Blaine.

"But you were cyber-stalking me apparently," Kurt says, chuckling at the irony of how big a part Facebook has played in his personal life when he really only joined the website to stay connected to his friends in Glee Club and to look at pictures of cats.

"Yeah," Adam says, but this time with much less guilt in his tone, and Kurt can't help letting a shy smile slip.

Adam has always been fairly unapologetic about his feelings with regard to Kurt.

At this juncture in Kurt's life, it's nice to see that hasn't changed.

The two men fall silent, a distant clap of thunder taking over where conversation has ceased, and Kurt feels this moment slip away, rolling off his shoulders like the rain off his shoes. Adam will go his own way, and Kurt will be alone again, planning out which of his McQueen outfits is the most suitable to go back home and grovel in.

"I know this probably isn't the time or the place," Adam starts again, "but I was hoping that maybe you'd like to go have a cup of coffee with me? Maybe do a little catching up?"

Kurt's head snaps up, back to Adam's smiling face – his signature boyish smile that hasn't faded this whole time - and thinks it over. He thinks over the non-plans he had tried to devise, all the goals he had tried to iron down that just seemed like dead-ends – and while he does, he shivers.

But not from the cold or the wet or the rain, but from the dawning realization of the hole he had begun to dig for himself – a hole it would be hard to climb back out of once he had made his way to the bottom.

Not so suddenly, coffee sounds like an excellent idea.

"Why don't we go up to my loft?" Kurt suggests, gesturing toward the staircase. "It kind of looks like you could use a towel, too."

"Yeah," Adam says with a laugh, not shifting his eyes from Kurt's face for a moment to acknowledge the state of his clothes or the goose bumps on his skin, because none of that matters. Nothing but the man with the umbrella in front of him matters. "I think coffee and a towel sounds like an excellent idea."


End file.
